Play With Me (Playing for Keeps, #2)

by Becka Mack

“They love me because of Carter. Because it’s convenient. That’s what I am, Garrett. Convenient.”

“Don’t you fucking say that. I love you for who you are, not because of your brother, and sure as shit not because you live four floors below me. You could take that job in Toronto and I’d still love you, and I’d keep loving you for the rest of my life. Because I love you, Jennie.”

My heart squeezes for her, the way she’s convincing herself that she’s losing more than just Carter, that without him, she has nothing to offer. How someone as self-assured as Jennie can, at times, be so unsure of what she brings to the table is gut-wrenching. I wish for five minutes she could see herself from everybody else’s eyes, see that even on her darkest days, she’s always been enough, not just for us, but for herself. Jennie’s always been like the sun rising after a black but starless night spent driving alone. You’re a little lost, a little off track, but you keep going, searching for that light, and when you find it, it shines so bright, guiding you home. But when she stops herself from shining, everything is bleak and gray, dull, like a foggy, misty morning in the middle of nowhere. When she stops herself from rising, I can’t find my way home. Not without her.

I once read that there are different types of love. The ones where you learn, where you grow, realize what you need. That you’ll fall in love over and over, until finally, you arrive at your destination. You find the one you’ve been searching for and everything just … fits.

Real love isn’t conditional. It’s seeing somebody for everything they are and accepting all of them. It’s knowing you’re friends first and lovers second, understanding that arguments are opportunities to know each other deeper. It’s dinner waiting in the microwave, lights left on to welcome you home safely. It’s showering together so you can kiss a little longer. It’s two a.m. secrets spilled while you’re wrapped up in each other, dancing in the kitchen, Disney movies on the couch while crying your heart out. It’s supporting dreams, growing together, and growing separately. Because when you can stand strong on your own, you can stand strong together.

“Is this your first?”

“Baby? No.” He lays a hand on his chest. “Dog dad.” Holly narrows her eyes. “Carter.” “What?” He looks at her. “Oh, human baby? Yeah, this is our first human baby. And our last.”

“Every bit of you fits every piece of me, and that’s how I know. We bring out the parts of each other we’ve spent so much of our lives being too scared to show. You’re my best friend, and we found everything we needed when we found each other. Falling in love with you is like checking the very last thing off my bucket list.”

THROW DICKS AROUND LIKE CONFETTI

“Sometimes an apology isn’t enough.” When he opens his mouth, I beat him to it. “Sometimes it’s not enough,” I repeat. “People like you throw out apologies like greetings, empty and meaningless, something you feel required to say. And people like me, people who like to believe there’s good in everyone, that we deserve second chances because we all make mistakes … people like me forgive you. We forgive you once, then twice. And again and again until somebody walks into our lives and shows us it’s not hard to keep promises. To apologize and mean it. To commit to being better. Until somebody shows us there’s no room in our lives for people who don’t care about boundaries. For people like you, Simon.”

“Don’t ever let anyone walk all over you, ladies. Know your worth, set your boundaries, and don’t let anyone disrespect either of those things. If they do, knee ’em in the nuts and hit ’em with an exploding confetti dick bomb straight to the face. Understood?”

Bear: Dreamt about fucking ur soaking wet pussy all night long until ur throat was raw from screaming my name. Bear: Oops, autocorrect. That was supposed to say good morning, sunshine.